


Praesidio

by lyriumspectrify



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe, Guardian Angels, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1241680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyriumspectrify/pseuds/lyriumspectrify
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DRAMAtical Murder AU where Clear, rather than being an android, is Aoba's guardian angel. Rated M for sexual content in later chapters.</p>
<p>Guardian Angels are taught strict rules that are not to be broken. It is not their job to judge, have opinions, or feelings; it is their job to protect the person they are assigned to until it is their time to pass, then move on to the next assignment, repeating this cycle until they are deemed worthy of a new rank or until they are destroyed by their line of work.</p>
<p>So when a troublesome angel that has a bad habit of deviating from their set laws is assigned a human to protect for the first time, they figured it would be best to give him someone that was constantly in trouble so he would not have time to develop any more inappropriate habits. But with all the constant interaction with his human assignment named Aoba, the angel actually grows more attached than he ever should have and finds himself yearning to learn more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fifteen Years

FIFTEEN

………………………………

We aren’t supposed to be heard from.

Not anymore, at least. That’s what we are taught from our creation.

A part of me finds humor in that aspect (since our kind is gifted with lovely voices), but I probably shouldn’t. It’s not our job to have opinions, feelings, or anything that could compromise our job. Because it’s our job to protect; and the slightest bit of hesitancy could mean failure.

If you don’t feel or have your own opinions on how things work, there are no errors.

Our superiors, Alphas, long ago told us that our Master had said that it was best to remove our interaction with those we must protect—easy to guess why, “for their own safety.”

Apparently, removing the knowledge of the calming presence of a Guardian Angel tends to keep humans in line much better than them knowing there is a force that exists for the only reason to keep them safe.

They didn’t like it when I asked about it, honestly. I asked why it was better to have humans concerned for their well being instead of them knowing about us, and allowing people to decide to be reckless if that’s how they wish their life to be. As a result, I was put into intensive training for a season, the primary focus being the importance of our work and our code, and why one being out of place can ruin it all.

Our code…

Do not be seen.

Do not be heard.

Keep your assignment safe.

When it is time, let your target fulfill their span.

Do not question.

Do not feel.

Obey our Master.

At least, that’s the simplistic way to present our code. There’s so much more involved, but it’s what we were raised knowing and thus the span it would take to delve more and more into it would be a waste.

…That’s how I feel. But I shouldn’t.

We shouldn’t feel. But I do.

I wonder if anyone else also has feelings? But again, should I not have questions? Shouldn’t I understand that my only purpose is to serve our Master and protect our assignments for Master’s goals?

…But I do wonder.

Maybe I’m just young. After all, I won’t get my assignment for another fifteen years.

………………………………

TEN

………………………………

We had a practice outing today, a pretty simple procedure to get used to Earth and its inhabitants.

Our instructions were as follows; pick a target and successfully “ghost” them for the day. Ghosting is an ability we all share; we bend the air around us and use it as a cloak, keeping us invisible to the untrained eye. I picked an old man because he seemed friendly; everyone around him addressed him as “grandpa” and they all seemed very fond of him. It’s amazing how much humans do to communicate with more than words, and this I learned from grandpa. Whenever he pulled the corners of his lips up, squinting his eyes and sometimes showing his teeth, the people around him did the same and they all radiated happiness.

A smile, I learned. That’s what that is.

I tried it for myself, and my face felt so stiff. I followed grandpa effortlessly, trying to smile when he did, trying to learn.

I don’t know why. We’re not supposed to. There’s no point for us to be that way, but I wanted…

…I wanted to share that warmth. _I_ wanted. Not _we_.

That’s odd. When did I start wanting something other than what we did?

We don’t even have names, how could I have individual wants? There was no use for names, after all our only purpose was to protect our assignments until they die, then get our next assignment. We were a massive working force, and forces don’t have feelings, wants, or opinions. A well-oiled machine is one way to put it. We only have our titles, our parts to this “machine.” We are Guardians, our superiors are Alphas, and we all serve our Master.

…But don’t humans have titles, too? Yet they have names to go with that…

…I want a name. I wonder what grandpa’s name is?

I smile while I try to imagine what his name would be, all the while following him along. I listen harder than ever, more than I need to really, to see if I can learn it from the source. But that doesn’t happen, so he must simply remain “grandpa” to me.

As time passes, the wind picks up and grandpa shuffles through his bag before pulling out a long cloth. As he wraps it around his neck, I feel my instincts rise to the surface to protect him. Is he choking himself? Grandpa makes a content sound, relaxing as the thing rests safely without constricting him. _It is keeping him warm against the wind_ , I realize when a shiver touches my own spine. A scarf, I learned. Humans are fascinating.

The day is finally ending, and grandpa made it to bed safely. It was time for us to report back so we could return to where we came from. The wind had only gotten worse over time though, and as I leave the groaning house my eyes catch a glimpse of something bright on top of a cupboard, a tag hanging from it.

…It couldn’t hurt to look quickly.

It’s a return tag, apparently the same kind of scarf grandpa was wearing, but a color he did not ask for. Assuming from the dust collected on it, he intended to return it but must have forgotten. He is old, after all. Humans are forgetful as they age.

It’s still cold outside, isn’t it? Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt…

I quietly reach up, taking a hold of the forgotten cloth, wrapping it around my neck the same way he did. Warmth holds in my neck, and I smile reflexively.

Is this what happiness feels like?

………………………………

It was to be expected, honestly.

When we had all returned to the designated area of departure, I had shown up wearing the brightly colored scarf around my neck, forgetting that it was protecting me from the cold wind due to the fact that I did not feel guilt. After all, we’re trained to not feel.

The Alphas were not angry. They simply acknowledged that I had stepped out of line, and singled me out in front of my comrades to make me the prime example of what not to do. They called me “broken,” a part of our force that shouldn’t be. That’s one of the worst things to be called, and while we aren’t supposed to acknowledge feelings, I felt a bitter shame.

_We_ aren’t supposed to do a lot of things. But _I_ do.

The Alphas have finished their speech, and upon finishing have asked me if they were clear with the point they are trying to teach.

I answered them.

“Yes, it is clear to me.”

And so we departed, and as I sat alone in my transport pod I ran my thumb over the brightly colored scarf I had hidden in my clothes when they told me to dispose of it. A smile floats to my lips.

“…Clear. I shall be Clear.”

I have a name. They say I am broken, so that’s fine. I will allow myself this, no one has to know.

………………………………

NINE

………………………………

After more training, it’s time to return to Earth again. Despite the efforts of our regimen, I made an effort to hold onto what I brought back from Earth. I practiced smiling when I was alone, to the point that I was worried I would forget myself in public and do it. I received two seasons of intensive training after the issue of the scarf for good measure, and I know for a fact that display of human emotion would double that.

Worry was a new emotion. Newly recognized, anyways; I’m almost certain it’s something I’ve felt often but was trained to ignore since the day I was created. It boiled its life into me the moment I brought the scarf back with me, because I didn’t want them to take my treasure away from me.

I would wear it when I practice smiling. Because it brought warmth to my face and wherever it rested on me, and I told myself this is what happiness feels like. Warmth.

And smiling came so much easier to me when I had it.

So when we returned, I was determined to ghost grandpa again. I wanted to learn more from him, and from his age he surely had so much to give; even if he didn’t know he was giving. I managed to find him again, as I returned to his house.

His atmosphere was much colder this time, though.

His brow was furrowed, and his lips were pulled down, wrinkling his already leathery face as he stared at a glass frame in his hands, an image of a woman on the inside. His lips trembled and every now and then his breathing hitched, and I felt concerned for his well-being as I sat silently in the dark. It was pain in his eyes, but what pain can I protect him from that I can’t see?

It’s emotional pain? The photo seems to be causing it, but I can’t exactly take it from him…

I find myself imitating his face, and it comes to me a lot easier than smiling did as I too had a feeling of discontent from seeing grandpa suffer. But I lose my frown and return to my neutral expression when I hear an odd noise come from him, instinctively readying myself as I thought there could be danger.

Instead, I saw a liquid come from his eyes, and his body shook as the noises continued. So this is what they call crying. I watch silently, unsure of what to do. I almost felt like I was intruding on something private for him.

…Come to think of it, feelings seem to be coming more and more naturally for me these days. Ever since I’ve named myself… Ever since I made myself an individual and started thinking that way. Yet in this event, I’m still unsure of what to do.

Grandpa clutches at the photograph, crying and whispering a name—more than likely the name of the woman in the photograph—occasionally wiping at his eyes. I become so absorbed in this display that I begin to forget myself and what I’m supposed to be doing. But what he’s experiencing seems so complex and my want for understanding grew so much… He was experiencing so many emotions it seemed all at once, and yet I struggle to comprehend my own alien feelings when they come one at a time.

My eyes are burning. Have I been so absorbed that I’m forgetting to blink…?

A salty sting pushes past my eyes, and a soft gasp escapes me in confusion as I wipe at my face, trying to remove the burning intrusion. But it keeps pushing, and I can feel a foreign weight in my chest I’ve never felt before burning like fire.

I am crying. But why? I have no reason to mourn, and that isn’t even speaking on terms of what I’ve been taught my whole life. I cover my mouth with my hand, pushing in hitches in my breath to avoid creating sound as tears flow freely.

But as my mind swirls in a confused chaos, I realize I ache because of grandpa, similar to how he aches because of the photo in his hands. He cries because he has lost something precious to him, while I cry because of his pain. It’s not a tangible source, but it’s real. It aches to see him suffer.

I cannot bear to think of how my comrades can push this back so easily once we’re fully assigned to a human to protect. Perhaps I am “broken” after all.

It’s as though suddenly, my world had opened up. I realized there are all sorts of humans everywhere, all experiencing pain, joy, fear… So many feelings, all things they cannot be protected from. But that’s the way it should be. So why can’t we?

Why?

The weight of these thoughts and realizations crush my chest, and I squeeze my eyes shut as a violent tremor shakes me. I feel as though my chest is going to burst, as if crying broke a barrier built up by countless seasons of training and all the emotions I had ever shoved back and swallowed were clawing their way back up. My lungs burn and I realize I need to leave. I can’t be here, because I will be discovered very soon and the only reason I haven’t is because grandpa is absorbed by his mourning.

I exit the house and flee to the neighboring field before falling to my knees and succumb to my sobs. I hear my voice echo around the empty space around me, as if confirming the overwhelming experience I was going through.

I pull out my scarf and bundle it up, pressing it against my face and muffling the sad sounds I created. Sure enough, it makes my face warmer, and I focus on the comfort and happiness that it usually brings along with it, refocusing my erratic breathing. It got wet from my tears, but I didn’t mind. It takes a while before I’m finally calm again.

The burn that formed in my chest was still there, but much more dull. Slowly removing the scarf from my face, I lie on my back and look up to the sky before a tired smile appears on my face.

…It felt good to have cried, and that thought was so absurd to me that I couldn’t help but smile, honestly.

………………………………

THREE

………………………………

My wings have finally started to grow two years ago.

I was behind the others in comparison, whose wings started developing two years earlier than mine. It’s odd, because while we don’t have names, sometimes my own kind gives individual titles. I suppose it could be considered a name, but it’s more of a description.

Broken.

That seemed to have stuck with me ever since I showed up with that scarf. Even with my superiors, if I were being addressed (generally because I might be doing something they didn’t like) they would say “Hey, Broken, fix yourself.”

I used to agree, yes, I’m probably broken. I was developing my feelings, emotions, and ever since I cried for grandpa’s mourning, everything seemed to be flooding me even faster. When I had time alone, I would try different tricks with my scarf, sometimes even dancing. Dancing was not unusual for us. It was a social custom, as was singing, generally for important events.

But I was doing it for fun, which frankly was blasphemous. I stopped caring a long time ago, ever since amusement filled me and laughter bubbled past my lips into the air.

I’m not broken. I’m simply Clear.

I am me.

Along with my late wings, two small moles had begun to appear under the right side of my lip. I wondered if it was because I had stretched that side too much from smiling and feared it would give away my thoughts and practices. No one else had these marks, but while I was thrown lingering stares (expressionless as always, but I knew what they were addressing) no one did anything about it. Perhaps they assumed it went along with their idea of my being broken and left it at that. After all, that was the logical, non-emotional response.

I grew to like them, though. They were another thing that made me an individual.

Since it would be three years before we would get our assignment, our visits to Earth became more frequent with our practices. As always, I would find my grandpa, easily ghosting him and observing his life so I could learn more about what it means to live rather than exist.

I looked forward to our trips so much, because when I was finally on my own to ghost grandpa I could relax and let myself feel freely. When it was once an effort to experience emotions fully, it’s become backwards and I now struggle to keep myself in check. I wonder about things, sometimes smiling if they are pleasant and frowning if they are not. There have been times when I’m alone that I have cried once again--sometimes without reason, sometimes for what I felt was a very good reason. I was working out seasons of repression, so it was to be expected But I was okay with that.

It’s wonderful, feeling emotions and deciding things for myself.

But it’s dangerous. Once, I thought it was dangerous for us, as a collective. A glitch in the machine, a malfunction. However, I know better now; it’s dangerous for me and me alone, because becoming an individual makes me a target.

If I stray too far and they notice, they might destroy me.

So the act has switched around; I no longer practice smiles or emotions; those are just a part of me. I have to practice hiding them instead, so it truly is a relief to spend time with my grandpa so I don’t feel as stiff anymore.

But it was at the three year mark that a truly terrifying, dangerous thought entered my mind.

...I want to talk to the man that had unintentionally taught me so much.

I want him to speak with me, and I with him.

Maybe years ago before my wings developed, it would be easier to blend in. But even then, that’s a stretch. In the past, humans have found our alien-ness frightening while some found it beautiful. It’s striking to see a humanoid with perfect symmetry, perfect everything really, and silvery white hair that isn’t thinned or caused by age, nor our faces blemished with any wrinkles.

And so I plan. I will talk to this man, my grandpa.

I have to before I’ll never see him again, since I know he won’t be my assignment.

………………………………

TWO

………………………………

It’s been difficult pulling together my “disguise,” but none of my comrades would expect it. It’s not a part of what they’ve learned, so it’s not something they look for. But I’ve learned a lot from my grandpa, and I know not everything happens according to plan; and I get the opportunity to continue being that “not according to plan” aspect of my people.

During my frequent visits to Earth, I would gather little bits and pieces of clothes, covering myself up as much as I could. Gloves, an old trenchcoat, a shirt (although a bit small), and some old but comfortable, dark slacks. This day, I found boots to add to the ensemble and a watch. I hid them in the field where I had first experienced my overload of emotion, the turning point of my life, and would dust the dirt off of the white fabrics before quickly changing into them, my wings neatly folded and hidden underneath the coat..

As a final touch, I wrap the scarf around my neck just as a gust of wind flutters my new clothes. I felt free.

Now if only I could cover my face…

But I am impatient. I must see my grandpa. So I make due by pulling the scarf up, to at least cover up half of my face although I know the clear, pinkish color of my eyes would be the most defining trait of all.

It was a risk I’m going to have to take. This is the last trip I’ll be able to make here, since our last two years are spent preparing for our official assignment.

I breathe in deep, quietly wandering over to the house in the distance, coat and scarf billowing in the wind.


	2. Grandpa

I’m at the door, making no effort to ghost, so everyone can surely see me that walks by although few. I must have stood in front of that door for a good ten minutes, trying to work up the willpower to go against everything I’ve been taught since the moment of my creation. Although I’ve been doing that for the past ten years, it was never anything quite like this. I am deliberately letting myself be seen, heard, exposed. While I recognize myself as my own person, my actions alone still are an endangerment to the others of my kind.

And if grandpa reacts poorly to my presence…

There’s no way that could be hidden from my superiors, and they will have to sing our Grand Music to wipe the human’s memory of me.

Following that. I will be destroyed. They won’t tolerate someone like me.

But my grandpa is a warm man. He accepts everyone he’s talked to, I’ve seen that for myself. I’ve seen so much of his warmth, and I just want to experience it for myself.

I want this. I _need_ this.

Despite my fears, I find my hand rising to the door on its own will. I form a fist, and then it falls upon the wood with a loud knock.

My pulse, I’m now aware, is wild, making me dizzy. It’s hard to breathe, and suddenly everything I’ve learned about the problems of emotions rushes to my head, as if scolding me. But I hear the footsteps coming closer, closing in, and I know there’s no turning back. I stop myself from nearly ghosting on impulse as I hear the knob of the door turn, and my pulse is hammering so hard I can hear it roaring in my ears, nearly stealing my breath away with its force in my veins.

The door opens.

...Grandpa looks surprised, but not in the way I feared. He seemed surprised to have a guest instead of by my appearance (although perhaps having a scarf wrapped around my head wasn’t the most normal of appearances). My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, frustration eating at my chest as I can’t seem to find any words to say since they’ve all been completely hammered out by my training resurfacing. It was a miracle I haven’t ghosted yet.

“...Can I help you, son?”

He spoke to me. He asked me a question. He _wants_ to help _me_.

I clutch at the front of my shirt and coat, smiling behind the scarf but the squint of my eyes showing it before tears spill out. Relief flooded me so completely that I cried even though I was happy. I didn’t understand that, but I didn’t care.

I nodded my head vigorously, still unable to speak, but my grandpa understood. He smiled that familiar smile of his, eyebrows slanted down in empathy before taking a gentle hold of my arm to lead me inside, patting my shoulder softly and consoling me. This was already so new and so wonderful I could barely contain myself at all.

Grandpa didn’t rush me while I dealt with my emotions, understanding that I was obviously working something out. Empathy directed towards me was a new experience, and almost made it harder to pull myself together still. In the meantime, grandpa said he was going to get us both tea, and I merely nodded, still working on courage to speak.

He was gone for a while, but I decided he was giving me time to collect myself. By the time he returned in the room, I was reasonably calm, occasionally sniffling behind my scarf. He carefully handed me the tea, a kind smile on his face, and I accepted the teacup with trembling fingers and gratefully bowed my head to him.

“...Thank you, grandpa.”

There was a lot of meaning in those words, so much more weight. I was thanking him for more than just tea, and I think he picked up on that weight judging by the slight confusion on his face. But his kindness never wavered.

He reached over and patted my hair, and the contact nearly made me burst into tears again.

“Whatever for, son? A little bit of tea is hardly worth such formalities for,” he said with an amused grin.

“T-that’s… Um,” I hesitate. My words are still hard to find, no matter how many thoughts I have. It’s hard to explain myself without exposing myself for what I was.

“...It’s that I’ve seen you so much in town,” I slowly began, mumbling as if speaking quietly will let me choose my words easier. “...And the kindness you show everyone. Your kindness has done so much for me, and I want to thank you for that.”

He makes a quiet chuckle, removing his hand from my head. “There’s no need to be thanked for human decency, but I appreciate you deciding it was worth a visit,” he said with a happy nod.

We drank our tea together, and while it took me a while to warm up to talking casually, it was just as easy to figure out as breathing in time, at least with grandpa. He asked me where I was from, and I would merely answer from out of town and that I came here regularly for business training. All my answers to him were vague, but that was for both of our safety.

Grandpa used to be a researcher, before he retired. He was involved with psychological development for many years, finding joy in working to help others. However, with age, his work took a toll on him over time and made him weary, but even with retirement he still tried to help others in any way he could. I smiled, unsurprised.

After talking for a while, we pause and time passes in comfortable silence. But the next question he asked took me by surprise.

“...Aren’t you warm in all those layers, son?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the scarf around my face.

“...Yes,” I answered truthfully. Despite that, I now felt like icy dread was creeping into my system.

“We’re indoors, so it’s fine for you to take off your scarf,” he suggested with his usual kind smile, encouraging me.

Of course he wants to see my face, this stranger that walked into his life to thank him and visit. I can understand that. But still I am afraid.

But everything else has gone fine, right?

“...Yes,” I respond with a slow nod, and reach up before undoing my scarf to expose my face fully. I would not take off my coat, however. Exposing my wings would be a direct giveaway.

His eyes widened and his lips pressed into a thin line, and I felt panic swell in my gut. But he did not scream, he did not react any more than that. My pulse nearly explodes, the air feeling fragile around us before he finally spoke.

“...What is your name?”

My name. He wants my name.

“...I am Clear, grandpa.”

"Clear? What an interesting name," he muses, nodding with a small smile. Grandpa stands up carefully, his eyes leaving mine before he wanders off to another room. I lightly chew on my lower lip, anxiety eating at my insides, before he slowly walks back in with something black in his hands.

“Clear, you are different from us, aren’t you?” he asked, but I did not answer. My face probably gave it all away--not just my appearance, but my expression of fear and the burn of tears behind my eyes. He presses the black object into my hands, and I look at it.

A mask…?

“I want you to wear this, Clear. Don’t let anyone else see your face, so please be safe.”

His words mix up a confusion of pain and bittersweet happiness. The irony of a human wishing safety for a Guardian Angel… But is my face really that bad?

I nod slowly, pulling the mask on. I’ve seen these before, when we learned of human history. These masks protected people from dangerous fumes. A gasmask.

“...I understand, grandpa.”

But the truth is, I don’t understand completely. But I trust grandpa. I’ve learned so much from him, and his judgement should be just as good.

The expression he had earlier then vanishes, and the kind smile returns.

“Good boy,” he replied, ruffling my hair a bit before straightening up. “Now, it’s time for this old man to get to bed,” he sighs, picking up the empty teacups. I look out the window, and indeed, the sun had gone down. I need to meet with my comrades to go back soon. I stand up, bowing before grandpa and thanking him for having my company before re-doing my scarf around my neck and turn to take my leave.

“...Clear?” his voice called to me across the room and I pause.

“Yes, grandpa?” I ask, prompting him to show I was listening.

“...Thank you for visiting me.”

With those words, my previous anxieties that he might be rejecting me for my face began to fade, and I smiled underneath the mask.

“Bye, grandpa.”

I shut the door quietly behind me before ghosting, standing in place for a few good minutes, reflecting on everything that had happened. I clutched at a spot in my chest where emotions pooled over my heart.

There was no turning back for me now. I’m forever ruined.

But I accept that gladly, even as I run back to the field to swap out my clothes once more, storing the gasmask with all my other items before returning to our designated spot to return home.

\--------------------------------------------

“Are you certain of this, Alpha?”

The tall figure bowed before his Master, wings folded in respect. He did not look him in the eyes--he might be an Alpha, but that is a privilege none had.

“Yes, Master. I saw the Broken one exiting the house, fully visible. He has compromised his place willingly.”

“Hm…”

A tense silence followed, the Alpha daring not move a muscle while his Master was deciding upon judgement.

“...Alpha.”

“Yes, Master?”

The Alpha heard a rustling noise, more than likely the Master adjusting his seat having come to a decision.

“In a year’s time, make sure our Broken understands why we have our ordinances. You are to prevent him from stopping his Grim in a demonstration of what happens when we forget ourselves,” he says, walking up to the Alpha before tapping the top of his head to transfer information to his mind.

“This is who you will escort him to. Do not fail me.”

The Alpha bowed lower. “Yes, Master.”

The Alpha’s Master sat back down, allowing him to finally stand up straight once more before saluting and began to exit the room.

“Oh, and Alpha?”

He froze. “Yes, Master?”

“...Do not tell the Broken that it’s the human’s time to pass. I want you to make sure this lesson strikes home, are we understood?”

The Alpha nodded. “Understood, Master.”


	3. Punishment

………………………………

ONE

………………………………

It’s almost time for my comrades and I to finally get our first assignments. Our first humans we will be tasked to protect. Honestly, I’m kind of nervous! Will the human I get be as good as my grandpa? How old are they? Will I get along with--

No, I can’t think like that. It was a total fluke that I was able to talk with my grandpa without any consequences, and I can’t afford to endanger someone I’m supposed to protect…

...But then again, nothing bad happened to grandpa, right?

Thoughts and concerns swirl in my mind, my face staying blank like I’ve practiced as we make our way to transport pods. Our final lesson today brings us back to Earth, as we are going to fend off Grims.

Grims are forces of death. However, they are chaotic and not in control--the complete opposite of Guardian Angels. While their role is just as important as ours, it’s up to us to keep them in check. Sometimes they kill when it is not that person’s time, at least when we’re not around.

That is why we exist. We are a balance to death, a power check.

For once, we are visiting Earth during nightfall in the region we normally go to, which means I might be able to sneak a visit to grandpa after my task is done. I know he will be asleep, but it would be nice just to see his kind face again.. It’s not a guarantee, but it still makes me fight back a smile to avoid having attention brought to me.

Each one of us has two Alphas accompanying us. It’s a precaution to make sure we don’t fail our task, and also this way they can judge if we are truly ready for our assignment. The reason we do this test at night is because Grim are unusually strong during this time. Their influence over humans has a tighter hold, since their ghosting is tied into darkness and thus they can influence more without giving themselves away.

At last, we’ve arrived. It feels odd to be on Earth without my gathered clothing on, currently wearing the standard uniform with my wings on full display. But I cannot change, as this time I’m accompanied. After the two pass a knowing look to each other, they turn to me.

“You will follow us to your task. Stay ghosted until we reach our destination,” they instructed, flaring their wings and taking to the air shortly after the air shifts to ghost them.

I can still see them, of course. Ghosting only works on mortals (and not always on animals, I’ve learned, when some dogs smelled me from under my ghosting effect and chased me. It was rather scary).

As we flew, the familiar scenery below me sped by and I allowed myself a private smile since the Alphas weren’t looking my way. I’ve managed to get this far, and despite the few instances of intensive training, I haven’t really done all that bad. The fact that I’ve survived this long without being destroyed, despite my actions, speaks volumes. I almost feel like I was more advanced than my brothers, in a way.

They started slowing down and I snapped out of my thoughts, slowing down as well and looking around to see where I was. My heart squeezed, trying not to sink as I saw them approaching grandpa’s house.

...No. This can’t happen.

I landed, trying hard to bite back my horrified expression as the Alphas dusted themselves, shaking their wings out before folding them neatly. Mine remained flared the slightest as if I was considering fleeing, but that wasn’t an option.

I’m here to protect him. He won’t die. However, I can’t help the tight line my lips have made as I fold my wings finally behind me and approach the Alphas.

“...This is your target for tonight, brother,” one of the Alphas spoke at last, the door soundlessly opening at his mere touch. “Best of luck. We will be watching,” he says the last part, eyes not on mine but looking right into the eyes of the other Alpha. I feel uneasy, but I step past them and into grandpa’s house.

It’s quiet and dark, as to be expected, the soft sounds of breathing coming from grandpa’s room. My senses are on edge, probably even more so from emotional influences of fear, nervousness, and uneasiness. Is this why my brothers frown so much on feeling? Because these negative feelings might hinder us from doing our work?

Honestly, it felt more like a motivation to do my job better so I wouldn’t have to feel these things…

I quietly walk into grandpa’s room and he’s sound asleep, face as kind as ever and peaceful. I absentmindedly smile, feeling better than before since I was now being comforted by his presence before me.

No, there’s just simply no way he will be dying tonight. I’ll make sure of that.

This is how I can repay him for teaching me so much about emotion and feeling.

So I wait, not taking my eyes off of grandpa except to make quick glances around the room to make sure there were no Grims trying to sneak in any other way. The one advantage that Grims have that we don’t is that they can phase through walls, floors, or basically any solid surface. So, as a result, we must stay extra vigilant because they could come from anywhere.

A cold breeze lofted through the room, but no windows were open. My heart leapt in my chest and squeezed my throat, and I knew it was happening. My eyes wildly darted around looking for the source when I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder and had to hold my breath to keep myself from gasping in surprise.

It was the Alphas, one of them with a firm grip on me. I exhale slowly, realizing they were most likely here to examine my work now that it was time to start.

A darkness suddenly started leaking slowly from the corner of the room, slithering across the floor. A disgusting aura pooled from it and I felt something of an internal hostility build inside, strengthening my resolve to save my grandpa.

How _dare_ this thing believe I would allow it to take someone so good from this world…?

I moved to engage it when suddenly the hand of the Alpha squeezed my shoulder painfully tight, causing me to be unable to hold back a small gasp of pain. I try to shake him off, but instead the Alpha forced me to the ground, my knees hitting the floor with a solid thud causing an ache to shoot through me, the other Alpha joining by his side and grabbing a fistfull of my hair, jerking my head back. The pained noise I made that time came louder, and my eyes glance over to grandpa, panicked that he would wake up or even worse, the Grim would reach him.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” I hissed a pained whisper, trying to struggle out of their hold. The Alpha that was holding me down by my shoulder grasped at my wrists, jerking them together and pinning them behind my back and pressed them against my wings. My eyes watered from the pain, the force of his pushing while the other pulled on my hair without mercy, forcing my head to stare up at where grandpa lay…

...No. No, this can’t be happening.

I’m starting to put two and two together. They have no intention of letting me do my job.

The Grim is coiling, swirling on the floor, nearly touching grandpa’s bed.

“...No, _no!_ You can’t--Don’t, I need to save hi-- _mmph!_ ” one of the Alphas forcefully shoved something in my mouth to keep me quiet, and through teary eyes I glance to see below was a bright, neon scarf…

Dread hit my stomach, and I felt nauseous. They knew. They knew.

“Do you understand now, brother?” one of the Alphas whispered softly. “This is what happens when protocol isn’t followed. Things happen that we cannot help,” he paused, tilting his head the slightest as he increased his grip on my wrists. I could nearly feel bones creaking, cries of pain muffled under the scarf.

My heart is pounding, my mind dizzy from the rush of blood, adrenaline, and horror. These emotions are awful, and I want them to stop. I want to save grandpa, I don’t want to feel sick anymore.

I don’t want to die. That’s surely what’s to come next. They will destroy me.

The Grim is crawling up the bedframe, and the room is getting colder.

I jerk against the Alphas holding me, mustering all my strength enough to shake off the hold on my wrists before slamming myself backwards, taking the Alpha who was pulling my hair down with me and making his hand connect with the floor. He grunted in pain, and when his hold released I scrambled up and swung a wing out, hitting the other Alpha who was trying to get a hold back on my wrists and knocking him to the floor.

I might not have the largest wings, but they are still very strong, if not stronger from the extra work I do to fly.

I turn to the bed where grandpa lay, my pulse roaring in my ears as I leap towards the Grim to engage it when suddenly pain ripped into my wings, causing me to reel back and stumble. The Alpha who had grabbed my hair earlier grabbed a fistfull of feathers, flight feathers included being crumpled in his grip. He yanked back, whipping me off my feet as I cried out in pain, tears breaking past my eyes as I hit the floor and saw stars the moment my head cracked against the floor loudly. Shortly after, a sharp pain dug into my side as I felt a kick land, causing me to reflexively curl up onto my side, coughing and wheezing from the pain.

They weren’t holding anything back at all.

I felt a hand grab my hair, pulling hard enough to lift me up to my feet. I arched in pain, cries muffled by the scarf once more before I was thrown against the wall. My breath was knocked out of me and I crumpled to the floor, wheezing, trembling as I tried to stand up again. But hands find my throat and suddenly I’m against the wall again, my hands desperately but futilely scrabbling to pull them off.

Grandpa shivers in his sleep as the Grim reaches his body, closing in on his heart and mind. Tears spill out from my eyes in excess, my gaze fixed on the scene before me in horror. I couldn’t handle this. My stomach was burning, my throat was strangling itself along with the Alpha’s hands, and I stopped trying to pull at the hands around my neck and reached out towards grandpa with trembling, desperate fingers.

“Grandpa… please…” my voice was barely a whisper. I couldn’t blink.

And just as my words disappeared from the air, grandpa drew in a sharp breath and sucked the Grim in, and his body jerked ever so slightly. He exhaled, a pale mist in the air that dissolved almost as soon as it left his body.

Then, he was still.

The color of his face faded, and his chest didn’t rise or fall with air.

I couldn’t hear anything anymore, and the burn in my stomach turned to lead that spread to my fingers, causing my outreached hand to fall to my side. I become limp, my vision darkening before my throat was finally released.

I crash to the floor, with no will to move.

The Alphas stand in front of me, one of them clicking their tongue.

“It’s a shame the old man had to die, brother. This is why we don’t tolerate Broken behavior. Perhaps if you didn’t involve yourself with this man, he would be living today,” one of them suggested, shaking his head.

The other Alpha kneeled, shockingly gentle with his touch now as he cupped and turned my face to look up at his as tears silently fell from my eyes. “But even what’s broken can be repaired, no? You’ll get another chance. You are not to be destroyed this time,” he cooed before letting my face fall back to the ground. I showed no will to move.

The Alpha stood back up and sighed. “Get yourself back in control, brother, and do it soon. We leave by dawn,” he said, passing a look to the other. They nodded in a silent understanding, casting one more look to me before exiting.

A few minutes passed without me moving, tears still spilling before I finally am overcome with sorrow and realization. I curled up tighter on the floor, and began to sob. The sounds I make echo in the lifeless room, reminding me of my failure and punishment.

I should have never felt. I should have listened. But it’s too late now for that.

I struggle from my spot, my injuries and abuse throbbing in my body. I stumble to grandpa’s bed and I look at his face, stomach twisting in guilt and shame before I collapse by the side of the bed, kneeling and burying my face in the blankets beside him as my cries grow louder.

This is all my fault. I wanted to save him as a way to repay all he has done for me, and all I’ve done…

All I’ve done is get him killed.

My sore wings droop as I force myself to stand, breath hitching in aftershocks of my cries. I reach and pull grandpa up into my arms, and I press my face against his chest in sorrow before exiting the room with him.

I did not fly. I didn’t deserve that freedom, not right now.

I left the house, grandpa’s blankets fluttering in the wind as I carried him out past the back of his house. I drop the scarf in the spot with the rest of my disguise, frowning at it in anger before continuing my walk.

It was a few hours of my silent footsteps before I had reached the beach I intended to go to, up on a hillside. Grandpa had talked about how before he had settled here, he wished to retire on a beachfront property so he could watch the sun set across the water.

At least in this way… I could grant his wish.

I give him a burial, kneeling solemnly beside his now grave and say nothing for a couple hours. It was only a matter of time before I broke my silence though.

“...I’m so sorry, grandpa.”

I wipe the last bit of my tears away, my body thoroughly drained and exhausted. I reach back to my injured wing, flinching the slightest as I pull a feather that I would find no use of anyways, and set it quietly on his grave before turning away, forcing myself to fly on tired wings to return to my brothers.

I did not want them to be my brothers anymore. Not after this.

But I have no choice. I’ve never had a choice to begin with. I learned this the hard way.


	4. Assignment

Time has passed. I’m not sure how long, as I stopped caring since I had lost my grandpa.

As soon as we had returned, I was put immediately into intensive training and sentenced to solitary confinement as a measure to make sure my behavior didn’t spread to the others. While I used to find joy in being alone so I could be free to express myself, now it felt almost like a prison. I became bitter, because as I wondered to myself why something that brought me so much joy in the past could hurt so much right now, I realized my grandpa was the exact same situation.

I don’t want to think or feel anymore. But these things aren’t so easily forgotten now that I’ve dug them out of my heart.

I still tried, though. They were giving me a second chance to fix myself instead of immediately destroying me. I’m still not sure why, but I was going to take advantage of it. So, I practiced.

And practiced.

And every day, it started getting a little easier to fake being a blank slate meant only for service and protection, even if my emotions still swirled and occupied my thoughts underneath. I did find joy in my success, which was the only positive emotion I’ve felt in a while, because I knew that my cooperation would mean the safety of whatever human I am assigned to protect. As long as I don’t involve my emotions or myself with this human, they will be safe.

They won’t die like my grandpa did.

But no matter how much I could act the part, no matter how much training I went through for them to crush the emotions my grandpa gave me, I couldn’t help but hold on to them. At first I wasn’t sure why. But as time went onward and I thought more about it during my time alone, I realized that emotions were my one, true connection I still had left with my grandpa. He may be dead, but he lives on through me and the emotions his life had granted me.

I can’t kill him twice. There’s no way I could do that. So I continue to acknowledge my emotions, and they live on just as much as I do.

Before I even realize, intensive training is over and when I rejoin my brothers I discover that we will have our first, true assignments within a few days. A bit of dread eats at my stomach, but I bite it down. Everything will be fine. I know better now than to involve my emotions with my assignment. But at the same time… A familiar ache reaches my heart and I clutch slowly at the front of my chest without realizing.

I want to share feelings. I want to make a connection. But that isn’t allowed. I’ve suffered the consequences for it, and yet I still wish for it.

I wish I understood why. I want to ask humanity why, as this is their experience. But…

I’m brought out of my thoughts when a group of Alphas enter the room we were all currently waiting in. We all stand, folding our wings properly and bowing our heads down the slightest in respect to our higher ranked beings. After a moment of silence, one of the Alphas that was holding a list steps forward, unrolling it so it could be read.

“My brothers,” he starts, looking around the room as we all raised our heads to regard his words. “Here we have a list of the names of those you will be protecting. In other words, your first job as a Guardian Angel, and your purpose for the life you were given,” he proclaims,  taking a moment to watch the others around him. I stayed as formal as the rest, my expression not shifting despite the sudden surge of excitement in my chest.

“The human you will be assigned will be sorted into a class, and that class is whatever amount of danger or trouble the human will be in for their life. The class you are assigned is directly involved with your skills displayed, so each human has a competent guardian,” he says before his gaze returns to the list, holding it up before him.

He reads a name off the list, their location, and then one of the other Alphas walk over to one of our brothers and brings him up before the one with the list. He then announces that this human is his charge, his duty.

The angel bows. “I will not fail,” he confirms, before standing and leaving the room to prepare for his departure.

This continues for some time. Some angels get Class F humans, which have little to no danger in their lives. Perfect for those who handle easy assignments the best. Then of course some of our most skilled get Class A, meaning those humans are generally and constantly in trouble. My brothers might not have emotions or much for independent thinking, but somehow our skills always differ.

Despite the range of differences of Classes and skills, each angel accepts their assignment the same way. “I will not fail.” I rehearse those words in my mind for when I get my own assignment, but every time I feel like those words will come to me it feels like lead in my mouth.

Because I have failed before. My grandpa…

What if the human I am assigned falls to the same fate? What if I can’t control myself and end up involving myself into my--that--human’s life?

Before I can dwell on it too long, the next name is announced.

“...Seragaki, Aoba. Midorijima, Old Resident District, Japan. Class A.”

As soon as those words are spoken, one of the Alphas makes eye contact with me and starts walking over to me. What?

This is my assignment? I’m given a Class A, despite all the troubles and nuisances I’ve caused…?

I nearly forget to conceal my confused feelings, but the firm grab on my wrist snaps me out of my swirl of thoughts and I remain expressionless as I walk with the Alpha. I’m brought before the one with the list and I can nearly see something in his eyes other than the usual blank slate.

...Amusement? Or am I merely projecting my knowledge of emotions onto him…?

I bow. “I will not fail,” I manage to speak after swallowing hard. I stand tall once more, and as soon as I exit the room and stand alone my expression casts down, full of confusion and wonder.

Someone they called Broken, someone they beat down into the ground because of the lack of usefulness…

Yet, they gave that Broken angel a job that the most elite of us are given…?

I don’t understand. I don’t _understand_.

My emotions are bubbling back after that year of intensive training and holding them down and keeping them inside. I clutch my throat, feeling sick.

I need to be alone. I need to be alone, I need to be alone, I can’t keep this in anymore…!

I’m biting my tongue as I walk briskly to my room, staring ahead and not focusing my eyes on anything, coming across as something robotic. It seems like too long before I finally reach my room, closing the door behind me before sinking down to my knees, finally feeling like I could breathe while staring ahead of me in continued confusion.

“Why…?” I ask softly to the empty air. “There’s something not right about this, just like there was something not right with them stopping me from protecting grandpa…”

I curl my fingers into a fist, then relax them again before I stare at my palms. I am at a loss of how to react now that my frustration and confusion has resurfaced after being forced down for so long. I run my fingers through my hair, breathing deeply a few times before calming down.   I stand,  deciding what’s done is done and that I should begin to prepare to leave.

“Aoba… You have a nice name, Aoba,” I talk to myself, allowing a cheerful tone to bleed into my voice.

It doesn’t matter that he’s a Class A. I will definitely keep him safe. I will find a way. If I can break our society’s most important rule and survive, then perhaps it’s possible this will work after all.

Maybe that’s why I was chosen for him.

For the first time since my grandpa’s death, I smile.

\----------------------------------------------

“So, Master gave our little Broken a Class A assignment, huh?”

The Alphas were wrapping things up, the last of the angels having been given their assignments and were all busy preparing for their departure.

“Yes,”  the Alpha holding the list replied, the slightest hint of smugness in his voice. This caused the one who asked the question to stare at him in hidden questioning. Obviously if there was a change in the usual formal tone of voice, something was unusually different with a situation.

The one with the list noticed the silent question, and tilted his head the slightest as he looked at the list for no real given reason. “Master decided the best way to keep the Broken out of the way is to keep him so busy he has no time to develop his… problem any further,” he began, casually folding the list away before looking at his brother.

“...Or, otherwise, he will be killed in the process by failing to keep up with this human anyways. Either way, our problem is taken care of.”

The other Alpha didn’t seem convinced. “Why did we not dispose of him when he was first caught straying? Wouldn’t that have been more effective than all of this…  Sideline plotting?” he asked.

The first Alpha shrugged the slightest. “Having to kill our own tends to draw unease amongst the crowd. Questions start being asked, authority questioned… It’s better to make it seem natural. It’s what our Master wants.”

No other words were exchanged between the two as they left the room, their resolve with their Master’s desires firmly ending the question.

They did not question. That is not their job.

And they were indifferent about it, as they should be.

\----------------------------------------------

A day has passed, and now it’s time.

I couldn’t rest last night, but it didn’t matter. We don’t need as much rest as a human would in comparison, and after all my emotions had broken free from my internal hold I was simply too overwhelmed to relax at all.

Nervous? Excited? Afraid? Maybe. It was a complex mix of these things, and I am not so used to feeling so many different emotions all at once. But regardless, I manage to pull on my best neutral face and line up with the others, entering into our transportation to Earth.

In no time at all, we had arrived.

We all got into our designated pods, each with a distinct homing location of where to be dropped off so we can easily reach our destination and find the human we are to protect. This actually takes time, as there are certain protocols to software and how fast the travel is so that we can remain stealthed, especially those that must travel to areas where it is currently day time.

As I see the approaching Earth, I notice it’s day where I’m arriving. I smile a bit, hoping lightly that this will allow me to find my human assignment easier.

Aoba.

But my hope is suddenly replaced with dread as I recognize the island I was traveling towards.

This is the island grandpa lived on. I frown and as the pod slows, preparing to open so I can exit. I can easily pick out the area where grandpa’s house is.

Is this their way of reminding me to keep in my place? So I don’t overstep our laws again…?

The sudden suction of air and cold entering the pod nearly swept me off my feet since I hadn’t been paying attention, and I barely manage not to be flung out of the pod as it opens in the sky. It’s time for me to go.

I take a deep breath, stepping to the edge, and jump out, wings unfolding behind me and catching the air.

…

It feels _amazing_ …!

This is the first time I’ve gotten to fly at such a height, and after being sure to ghost once I got close enough to land to be spotted, I allowed myself a bit of luxury of freedom.  With a chuckle and a grin, I flip my wings in such a way that I’m flung upside down, making a loop before tucking them in and divebombing towards the ground towards an open field.

Just before I’m about to hit, my wings snap open and the air catches me again, making me soar back up in an arch. I sigh, inhaling the fresh air before gently gliding down to the ground, wings softly lowering me to the place I wanted to land. I fold my wings neatly, then sit down on the hillside I landed on, tears filling my eyes as an old pain gripped my heart.

I look out towards the coast, a pained smile crossing my face. After several minutes, I finally turn my head, looking at a worn stone that was propped out of the ground.

“...I’m back home, grandpa.”

I stand and bow in respect to his grave, taking a moment of silence, almost like a silent prayer that he is at peace.

“...I might have failed you, grandpa. I am sorry. But I promise I will protect my human twice as much to make up for it,” I swear before his grave before straightening up.

“I have to go now… Thank you. I’m sorry I was not strong enough for you.”

With those final words, I turn around and start walking towards where I remember leaving my disguise from so long ago.

I did not plan on revealing myself, of course. But I felt that by wearing these articles of clothing… It’s like keeping a part of grandpa with me. My memory of him will keep me strong for Aoba.

This resolve stayed with me as I pull the last part--the gasmask--over my face. The clothes were a bit dirty, but overall in very good shape after dusting them off. I leave the trenchcoat off for the time being so my wings are not restricted, as I still needed to be able to find Aoba.

I hide my old clothes away and take to the sky, trenchcoat folded over my arm as I ghost and begin my search.

When we are assigned our humans, we undergo an imprint that allows us to immediately pick them out in a crowd, which is particularly useful in a lot of potentially hazardous situations. So as I fly, I scan fairly quickly over crowds, hoping he will stand out to me and I can begin my job. But it wasn’t that easy.

It has been well over an hour since I have started searching, and my eyes are getting exhausted from the strain. I land with a sigh, tucking myself into an alleyway before I pull the trenchcoat on and cover my wings. Maybe I’ll have better luck if I search on foot so I can see faces better?

I step out of the alleyway, still ghosting as I walk into the streets. I really wish I could walk amongst the humans without hiding like this, and honestly while I wouldn’t be recognized I did not want to risk another issue with my brothers. So, I instead wandered the streets, invisible to everyone around me.

It was actually a rather nice place, in its own way. I enjoyed it. It didn’t seem like anyone drove vehicles here, so people were crowding everywhere, walking and living life in the way that suited them most in the way they could. I got caught up in the atmosphere of it all, peeking into shops and observing all that was going around me.

What caught my attention the most were these little animals that some people had that followed them around, speaking with them and offering resources of knowledge. Robots, of some sort, that also seemed to work as a pet? I wasn’t sure, but they were, simply put…

...Fascinating!

My enthrallment with my surroundings was suddenly broken as I heard some shouts coming from my right, down an alley a few blocks down. I start running, my heart pounding wildly in my chest as I feared it might be the human I’m supposed to protect…!

Once again, I might fail because I got caught up in my own emotions.

But as I rounded the corner, the situation was resolved, and no one seemed to be seriously injured. I sigh quietly to myself, settling down.

This wasn’t my human. This wasn’t Aoba.

But just as I thought that, I heard a voice that sent a powerful shock through me, almost like a punch in my center.

I turn around and my eyes scan wildly, searching for the source. It was far away, but…

 _There it is again_.

It nearly knocks me off my feet, and after I regain my mental balance my feet seem to fly underneath me as I run towards where I thought it might be.

No… No this isn’t _fast_ enough…!

I grab at the back of my trenchcoat and pull it up, exposing my wings and letting it bunch up at my neck and shoulders as I unfold my wings, springing quickly off the ground as they push the air and cause a strong gust that confuses a few nearby people.

But I didn’t care. I needed to get to that voice…!

I hear it once again and it’s nearly underneath me, so I tuck my wings and dive rapidly towards the ground only to nearly crash into the rooftop. I dust myself off and straighten myself out, coat falling back into place as I carefully peek over the side of the roof to see the ground below me.

A person walks out of what seems to be a store, waving and saying goodbye to the person inside before pulling out a dark blue lump of fur, gently touching its forehead while calling its name. It wakes up and answers in a deep voice, and after they exchange a few words the human turns and looks up towards the sky, allowing me to properly see his face. I freeze and my throat squeezes.

It’s him.

It’s _him_.


	5. Aoba

My superiors weren’t even remotely joking when they had said Aoba was a Class A human category.

When I finally found him, I remained on the rooftop silently watching, listening. His voice was definitely the voice I heard, but… It almost sounded different right now? I couldn’t put my finger on it, but…

When he had spoken before, it was the intense, heated kind of pull that Guardian Angels feel when our Master gives us our commands. Is this naturally built into humans, too? Are we attuned to hear our human’s voice the same way as our Master so we can find them…?

But that wouldn’t explain why Aoba sounded differently than before. But honestly, I was so thrilled to find him at long last that my mind ignored my forming questions and went back to observing him with content.

He spoke with his allmate (Ren, I have learned his name from Aoba’s conversation with him) for a while. Just casual talk about how his day went and if there was anything else in the day aside from his work (the store he’s leaving must be his workplace), and then a request for a route to get home. This made my heart leap in excitement and I gripped the side of the roof with my gloved hands tightly.

I wasn’t sure why I was so emotional about seeing his home. Maybe it was out of sentimentality of when I first entered my grandpa’s home? But I had only just “met” Aoba and yet I’m as giddy as a small human child making its first friend.

But Aoba doesn’t even know I’m here, and he doesn’t know about my excitement of sharing our lives together. He’ll never know.

I was absorbed in my thoughts once again before I noticed he had already started walking, Ren by his side. In a jolted panic I try to push myself off the roof, forgetting about the trenchcoat covering my wings and ended up stumbling, barely grabbing the edge of the roof to save myself from the fall with a loud clatter. Aoba jumps, obviously having heard the noise and looks around in my general direction. I don’t dare move in fear of messing up my ghosting, and to avoid any further noise as his eyes scan the alleyway.

“Aoba?” a deep, concerned voice calls from Ren as he looks up to him.

Aoba looks directly at me and I nearly feel my pulse stop. He squints.

“...Ah, it’s nothing. Let’s go home, Ren.”

They resume walking together, and I exhale a relieved sigh before carefully dropping myself from where I was hanging and land of my feet with a practiced skill. I quietly trot on light feet, catching up to the duo before they could get out of sight.

...But that was the beginning of my realization of Aoba’s Class A status.

It was a mere ten minutes before the first confrontation happened. A couple of men cat-called Aoba, expecting him to be a girl due to his long hair. This, of course, didn’t sit well with him, and he whipped around and gave them a nice solid “fuck off” which didn’t sit well with them, either.

So the two decided they were going to get more personal about it and started walking over to Aoba. I could hear Ren make a small sound of frustration at the situation, but he was on guard, as was I.

“Hmmm, looks like someone thinks they’re tough shit, eh?” the first thug questions, squinting and raising his eyebrow at Aoba. The other is circling around, eyes moving in a way as though he was appraising what they were going up against.

Aoba frowns in annoyance and otherwise doesn’t look phased at all, and I can feel something click in my head that he must be very used to dealing with this if he’s so calm right now. That isn’t a good sign.

The one who was circling grabbed Aoba’s shoulder, to which he flinched and tried to jerk himself away from him but only to be grabbed by the other.

“He’s unmarked, umarked!” the man who had looked Aoba over excitedly breathes before looking back at him. “We can do _whatever_ the fuck we want to you, you know…?”

Aoba is now starting to show a little concern. He struggles again.

“Let go of me, assholes…!” he spits, jerking hard and nearly breaking free.

My heart heats up and starts pounding. I need to intervene soon.

The man holding Aoba grins impishly and changes how he’s holding Aoba so he had no defense. The other cracks his knuckles, then starts walking over to Aoba with a fist ready.

Now…!

I sweep my leg in front of the man’s as he takes the first hurried step, getting ready to give Aoba a charged blow to the stomach. His footing fails because of this and causes him to trip, and with a confused yelp the man plummets down and lands heavy on his face, just inches away from Aoba.

It takes a moment for everyone there to register what happened. Aoba looks so unimpressed that it almost makes me laugh, but I muffle my laughter behind my lips and gasmask.

“...The _fuck_ is with you, man??? The hell kind of display do you think you’re doing??” the man holding Aoba shrieks with anger, his face heated up red and clearly embarrassed from his friend’s “blunder.”

The man groans and rolls over, blood on his face from his nose. Normally I would feel terrible for harming anything, but in this case…

I don’t mind it if it means Aoba is safe.

The still-standing man roughly shoves Aoba away from him, his pride clearly wounded due to his comrade as he kneeled down to pick him up off the ground, cursing like an idiot before Aoba rolls his eyes, huffing in a way that said “what a waste of time” before grabbing his bag and nodding at Ren in a silent understanding as they quietly but quickly left the comical scene.

There were no other issues from the two men aside from a shouted “You’re gonna fucking get it next time, I swear to God…!” when he finally noticed Aoba had gotten away.

They walk for a while, a couple of other close encounters along the way that I managed to successfully avert through different means (for instance, a group of thugs obviously itching for a fight had been eyeing Aoba--I used my wings to kick up a powerful gust of wind to send dirt and trash flying so Aoba decided it would be better to not go that way to stay out of the weather).

After what already feels like a busy day for me, we’ve finally reached our destination.

It’s a quaint little home, well-kept and lively. I smile softly as I look around upon entering through the door after Aoba before noticing that he took a deep breath in through his nose, a smile spreading wide on his own features. I lift my gasmask off of my face just enough to let some unfiltered air through, and a heavenly scent of food cooking fills my nose and nearly makes my mouth water.

What I wouldn’t give to eat whatever was being cooked…!

“I’m home,” Aoba calls as he slips his shoes off, his feet padding quietly across the floor towards the kitchen.

“You’re _late_ ,” an old grumpy voice huffs from the room before Aoba even enters. He chuckles soft and awkward--the kind of laugh you would hear from someone who knew this was going to happen.

“Sorry, granny,” he apologizes, crossing over to her and resting his hands on her shoulders lightly before kissing the top of her head. “I had to take a couple of detours. Weird things have been happening today.”

She makes a loud harrumph after a pause. “If you’re going to be late, at least save what usefulness you might have left and set up the dinner table,” she tells him, not looking away from her cooking.

Underneath her grouchy exterior, I can tell she cares a lot about Aoba. I adore her already.

Dinner passes with comfortable, casual conversation. It makes me smile softly in the corner I sat down in, and I wonder what it must feel like to have someone care so much about you in one way or another. A little bit of pain stings in my heart, remembering grandpa and how he had cared for me as much as he had regardless of me being a stranger with a face that was seemingly disturbing to humans.

I wonder if Aoba could ever come to care about me too…?

But that’s a dangerous way to think. I can’t think that way. Not again. I’m not going to fail Aoba like I failed grandpa.

But as I drift aimlessly in my thoughts, I had only just now realized that Aoba’s granny was staring straight at me with such an intensity I nearly panicked and thought I wasn’t ghosting. But I was--I checked.

...Her eyes are _sharp_ …! I can almost feel the blades sinking in!

“...Granny?” Aoba calls her name with a questioning inflection, addressing her piercing gaze before following it so he was looking at me too. My heart is in my throat… Am I really bad at ghosting or something?

She makes a low, thoughtful hum, before closing her eyes and snorting.

“It’s nothing. Just this old woman getting lost in her thoughts.”

“I see…” Aoba trails off, unconvinced.

I stand up shakily and wander out of the room, free from being imprisoned by her intense stare. That felt way too intense to be a mere coincidence, there’s no way she wasn’t picking up on my presence…

But then something came to mind. Grandpa, when he saw my face… He asked me if I was different from other people, rhetorically. Perhaps the elderly are more attuned…? Do humans see us differently, even more so with age? I’ll have to be more careful around Aoba’s granny, that’s for sure.

Dishes are cleaned and Aoba finally wanders out of the kitchen, climbing up the stairs with Ren in his arms. I follow him up, deciding where he was going must be his room.

With a slight bit of glee I discover I was right, and slide into the room behind Aoba just before he closes the door. I try not to bump into anything, needing to of course keep my presence a secret. His room is not as tidy as the rest of the house, but it felt like it truly was his own. I finally find an area of the room that looks relatively untouched and settle down there, feeling at ease that Aoba would not wander over to where I am.

Aoba sits down on his bed, holding Ren in his hands.

“So, how are you doing, Ren? Any issues?” Aoba asks, tilting his head the slightest.

“No problems detected,” the deep voice replied.

“That’s good…” Aoba replied with an uneasy smile. Ren makes a disgruntled sound.

“Aoba. Is there something bothering you?” he asks, ears twitching the slightest to mimic his active thought processes.

“Not exactly… After all the weird things that happened today, I just wanted to make sure you were fine,” Aoba sighs, leaning his back against the wall. “I mean it’s not all that uncommon to get called out for fights on the streets, but…”

Ren nods. “I understand. There were some unusual occurrences, as well as the resolution to each one.”

Aoba laughs softly. “It’s almost like I got out of them all way too easily… I guess I ended up wondering if it was some sort of distraction for something else. But I’m glad it’s not. Just dumb luck, I suppose.”

I sigh at Aoba’s words, almost a bit too loud. How cruel it is to not be able to be recognized for hard work…!

Aoba petted Ren’s head. “Still, even if there aren’t any problems as far as you can tell, I should probably check. It couldn’t hurt.”

“Yeah,” the small dog agreed, nodding his head once.

Aoba pulled out some equipment and hooked it up to Ren after brushing some of the fur on his neck aside, several different program screens lighting up in front of him. I kind of want to go over and see what it is since there’s so much information, but I’m just fine here in my little corner. I can’t be caught by Aoba.

“Mmm, looks like everything really is fine. That’s good,” Aoba says with relief as he shuts everything he had out down, setting it aside before picking up Ren again. A warm smile crosses his lips and he brings his companion’s forehead to his own, the fluffy mass pressed against him gently.

“Thank you, as always,” Aoba speaks with soft affection.

“The pleasure is mine,” Ren replies.

“I’ll count on you in the future, too,” Aoba adds warmly.

“The pleasure is mine,” Ren repeats.

Aoba pulls his forehead away and smiles at Ren, petting and ruffling his fur before letting him go into sleep mode. Aoba stretched, yawning greatly before glancing at the clock and mumbling about it being about time he should go to bed.

As he stood  up to go get ready for sleep, I withdrew into my thoughts, trying to push back questions that were flooding my mind. I had only been with Aoba for a day, yet I already have so many questions I want to have answered.

What if Aoba could count on me in the future too? But he already does, right? But what if he could _know_?

But that’s impossible.

While I think, Aoba mutters something about a shirt.

Why am I even so concerned about wanting to be recognized by the human I’m supposed to protect? We’ve been trained since our creation that we absolutely cannot have any sort of attachments to anyone or anything. Not even with our own kind. We don’t have friendships, romance, nothing. They’re non-existent where I come from.

But yet it’s nearly overwhelming how much I ache to know what it would be like to be close to someone, a true friend, someone to acknowledge my efforts and for me to be someone to support them when loneliness creeps.

These are all things I’ve never experienced. These are all things I won’t ever experience.

With a soft little sigh, I envision an imaginary object between my hands as I hold them out in front of me before bringing it to my forehead, mimicking Aoba.

“Boof,” I whisper the sound of foreheads touching with a short, silent laugh. I feel almost silly. But at the same time, I feel like even pretending helped me understand the slightest bit more.

“...Honestly, what’s it doing over there…?” Aoba huffs and starts walking over to where I am.

My hands slide back down from my mask and I nearly yelp in surprise when I see Aoba nearly on top of me, reaching down. What’s he doing over here?? Despair hits my stomach and I bite back a whine of frustration. Honestly, I thought I picked such a good spot to stay in…!

I flinch back and my heart pounds in my throat, and I avoided his hand as he reached down and clasped his fingers onto a shirt that I was halfway sitting on. He tugs it once and I feel it move slightly and understand he wants to grab it, so I carefully lift myself up enough so he can get it.

“Man, I need to clean up in here sometime…” he grumbles, stripping off his previous shirt before replacing it with the one he got from the corner. Upon doing so, he returned to his bed and flopped down, tugging the blankets up past his shoulders before reaching up to turn off the light.

It was probably a good hour before I was positive he was asleep, allowing me to finally relax to a certain degree. But a thought wouldn’t leave my mind.

I should rest so I can do my best tomorrow keeping Aoba safe like I’m supposed to. But I’m afraid.

What if he dies in his sleep like my grandpa did? What if I’m not there for him? I know that we can sense when Grims are around to the degree that we would wake up if one came anywhere near the area, but I still fear that because of everything else that’s wrong with me, who’s to say this won’t be an issue?

...It’s a pointless argument, really. Out of all those options, they would all eventually lead me to a downfall of not doing my job. The option that would more than likely turn out the best is to rest so I can work at my best capacity.

I lean my back against the wall, wings neatly folded so they wouldn’t be in the way. As my eyes start to drift shut behind my gasmask, I watch the rise and fall of Aoba’s breathing.

Alive. He is alive.

He will stay that way, I promise it. I won’t fail again.

 


	6. Master

Morning arrived with no problems, and even I managed to sleep.

I woke up first when the sun rose, light from the veranda peering into the room and shining off of the walls and through the goggles of my gasmask. I remained still, breathing softly and absorbing the atmosphere as much as I could. It was… Peaceful. Serene? Is that a feeling too?

This is the first time I’ve slept and awoke in a place other than my world of creation. It was much different, full of warmth and a hazy energy as the rest of the world slept or struggled to wake up. From my origin, waking up was cold, thoughtless, and just another part of function. There was no real meaning or feeling behind it, as it was with everything else.

But here…

A breeze fluttered and barely pushed the doors of the veranda open the slightest, making the drapes flutter enough that I could see a peek of the stained sky. It was pleasant to look at and I felt something akin to the way I saw my grandpa and exhaled a soft sigh.

I miss him. But he is still with me, I will always remind myself that.

Aoba grunts softly in his sleep, tossing an arm over his face now that his mind was registering the light let in through the drapes. I finally force myself out of my hazy state, making sure I was still ghosting so if Aoba wakes up I would not be seen. As I came to, I was noticing just how cramped my wings felt having been folded up underneath my coat and against the wall all night and decided it wouldn’t hurt to stretch.

Quietly, I stood up, trying not to make a sound while I stretched my body. Although the atmosphere was more comfortable than where I came from, the surface upon which I slept was not even close in comparison. I felt very stiff.

Since the veranda was already open, I quietly push it open just the slightest bit more so it could still pass as wind before slipping out, taking off my trenchcoat and hiding it on top of the roof with a small toss. I felt my muscles nearly throb with relief as I slowly stretched my wings out, the wind tickling along the feathers.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply, even though only filtered air comes through the mask. I didn’t mind. It still felt good to me.

Finally opening my eyes once more, I lightly hop onto the rail and make a soft clatter which I freeze, checking behind me to make sure I didn’t wake up Aoba. He grumbled in his sleep and turned over again, arm hanging off the side of the bed before his breathing settled once more. I smiled to myself, almost bitterly from recognizing the feeling of… not exactly fondness, but at the same time it was like a blossom of that feeling. Something that hasn’t bloomed.

I can’t think that way.

Without looking away, I step off the rail and plummet towards the ground before snapping my wings fully open, taking to the air with a fast arch.

Since the district of Midorijima that Aoba lived in was different from the areas that I frequented during our short trips here, I had decided it would be best for me to figure out the layout of this island for the sake of being able to find Aoba if there were any possibility of separation. So that’s exactly what I set out to do this morning while exercising my wings; I spent a good amount of time memorizing alleyways, districts, and hot spots that were already busy and thriving this early in the morning because I knew they would be swollen with life and danger the more the day progressed.

Grandpa definitely lived in a quieter part of the island. But that suited him. For some reason, a quiet life just didn’t seem like it suited Aoba from what I’ve seen of him.

I don’t understand why, honestly. It’s not like he actively seeks out dangerous situations, right?

...I’m not so sure. Maybe he isn’t sure either.

The sun has climbed up even higher in the sky and is starting to dispel the soft cool of late evening air, replacing it with a thriving energy that soaked through my feathers, and I felt the need to return back to check on Aoba. He surely would be waking up by now, since that kind of sunlight isn’t possible to ignore.

...Or so I would think…!

When I returned, carefully collecting and putting my trench coat back on before sliding through the still-open veranda door, I saw Aoba still sprawled out over his bed. I sigh, shaking my head and folding my arms over my chest. Here is this human, able to live a free life and is able to experience so much more than I can ever know, and yet…!

He’s just sleeping! He’s sleeping through all of it!

...I should wake him up. It’s for his own good, right? Wouldn’t that classify as doing my job? I’m getting him to experience his life, so…?

I cautiously step over to the side of his bed at stare, contemplating. Half of me is screaming no, the other half is screaming yes. On one side I should not be interacting with him at all, and on the other…

Maybe I don’t really have a good reason after all. Maybe I just want him to be awake. I want to learn more. I’ll just be subtle.

I reach out, heart pounding up to my throat and making my scarf feel like it’s constricting hard. Maybe if I just nudge his shoulder…

…

In the end, I can’t. I can barely even breathe.

I withdraw my hand and retreat for my corner, patiently waiting for him to wake up instead. I can’t bring myself to make contact with him, even if he never knows it was me or if it even was anything because I feel like one single incident could bring him that much closer to death like my grandpa had.

I can’t allow it. I won’t allow it.

I didn’t have to wait long, however. With bleary eyes, Aoba finally acknowledges the light pouring in from the veranda, groaning in annoyance before pushing himself up from the bed so he was sitting rather than on his side. I watch in fascination, this being the first time I’ve experienced how humans function early in the day. He seems to be acting a little different, almost sluggish as he forces himself to throw his legs over the edge. I hear a faint noise from where Ren was and noticed he had activated as Aoba smiled at the lump of fluff.

“Good morning, Aoba,” the deep voice greeted him.

“Morning, Ren,” he groaned while standing up. His hair was disheveled and he tried to comb it out using his fingers, flinching a bit when handling it without even tugging much at all.

Was his hair sensitive? I want to find out--no.

...This is so frustrating!

I cross my arms over my chest and pout furiously behind my gasmask, scolding myself internally for letting my curiosity continue to bloom. This won’t do at all if I keep this up. My superiors just _had_ to assign me not only to a Class A human, but such an _interesting_ one at that…!

First his voice, then his mannerisms, his attachment to his allmate, his hair… There’s something so oddly _unique_ about this human compared to all others, including grandpa, and it’s like a magnet that’s driving me closer and closer to breaking my own set rules as well as the rules of my society.

I want to know _why_.

Suddenly, music erupted in the room and I jumped, startled by the sudden noise while Aoba remains unaffected. He casually turns his wrist over to look at something on his wrist the people here call a “coil”, pushing a button to silence the music and pull up a screen.

“Hello?” he yawned at the screen, making a poor attempt to straighten out the rest of what he had missed of fixing his hair.

“Aoba, good morning!” a cheerful voice chimed from the popped up screen. I could see the image from the other end of the room easily and saw a person with black hair that covered half of his face, a broad grin plastered all over it. “Still trying to out-sleep the world, I see?”

Aoba grumbled, frowning at the screen. “Nevermind me, the real question here is what the hell possessed you to call me this early? It’s not even close to the afternoon,” he snorted. I chuckled from my spot. It sounded like his granny.

The man on the screen clicked his tongue, the grin still vibrant as ever as he shook his head. “You don’t remember? We were supposed to go get some groceries for Tae-san today? My payment for all those times I come to your house and indulge in her delicious meals?”

Aoba stared dumbly at the screen for a few seconds, not saying a word.

“...A-o-ba?” the man called his name, trying to bring him back to Earth.

“...Koujaku, this couldn’t have waited until the afternoon!?” he suddenly sprung to life, yelling at the screen. A sheepish expression crossed Koujaku’s face.

“Ah, well, I suppose that’s true...” he laughed awkwardly, his expression screaming for a desperate excuse. “...But I do have some customers to deal with today, so really, it’s better to get it done and over with, right?”

Aoba huffed loudly, rolling his eyes. “Says the hippo.”

Koujaku laughed loudly this time, relaxing a bit more. “So, should I swing by now? Or do you need some extra time?”

Aoba sighed, defeated. “No, you can head over now, it won’t take me very long to get ready,” he answered, still frowning at the screen. However, it seemed slightly better natured than before, almost playful.

Koujaku beamed. “Until then, bye, Aoba!”

“Yeah, bye.”

The coil’s pop up screen flickered off upon hanging up, leaving Aoba to growl under his breath and shake his head.

“That guy…”

Life finally throwing in a final card to get Aoba out of bed, he stood up and stretched, groaning before walking across the room for a change of clothes. As he changed, I fiddled with my fingers, focusing on them to give him a bit of privacy. At the very least, I know that is an important thing with humans... Even if he would never know I was there.

...But maybe I should check if he has any visible injuries I should know about. After all, my duty comes first.

I stop messing with my hands and slowly peek in Aoba’s direction, slightly embarrassed (although I did not really know what for), and let myself look over him carefully. I was grateful he wasn’t fully undressed, and from what I saw there were no scars, bruises, or any other alarming marks over his skin.

Actually, considering his class rank in our system, I was amazed he didn’t seem to have any scars or marks at all. He was… beautiful.

That train of thought was abruptly cut off as he pulled his sweater over his head, crashing my mind back to Earth with my body and I felt my face heat up even more in what could only be more embarrassment. Groaning internally, I rubbed at my face as though trying to wipe the red off of my cheeks to no avail while Aoba finished getting ready.

Once he finished carefully pulling his hair back into a ponytail, he addressed Ren once more.

“Ren...?” he yawned sleepily.

“Aoba,” the rich voice answered back warmly. “No new messages this morning.”

Aoba huffed a small laugh. “I figured as much. The only message I had coming my way was my wake-up call, unfortunately.”

“I see,” came the response. “Then, it would be best for us to go downstairs and wait for Koujaku there.”

Aoba nodded before ruffling Ren’s fur softly, and they both went out the bedroom door to climb down the stairs with me silently tailing behind, finally giving up on wiping my persisting evidence of shame off my cheeks.

We weren’t even completely downstairs before we heard Koujaku’s voice boom from below, giving Aoba’s granny a whole-hearted, friendly greeting.

“Hey, Koujaku,” Aoba yawned, stretching as he left the last step. “Did you at least give your customers a courteous goodbye before racing over here or are they about to put out a missing person alert?”

Koujaku huffed a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I didn’t get here that quickly, did I? I could always take another walk around the block if that would satisfy you,” he teased.

Aoba merely clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes and response. “You’re ready to go, then?”

“Of course! Tae is relying on us to get what she needs, so let’s get going!” came the quick reply, and while he spoke he walked over and grabbed a hold of Aoba’s hand to tug him along out the door (followed by a long string of startled protests from Aoba).

Aoba’s granny closed the door behind them a mere second after I managed to slip through to follow, and we walked I wondered why I felt an ache and a twitch in my hand every time I looked at Aoba’s clasped under Koujaku’s eager grasp.

.....

Despite my earlier conflict of Koujaku’s close interactions with Aoba, I was actually pretty grateful that he was with him for these errands. It was almost a vacation compared to the other day, keeping him out of trouble. Of course, I assume having someone that was a leader of a local Rib team can help clear the way a little bit.

Honestly, most of the trip was remarkably quiet. Once they were on their way, Koujaku released Aoba and let him walk on his own. After they got a few teases poked at each other out of the way, they chatted quietly as they trod along the sidewalk to the nearest grocery store.

It was a simple enough thing, really. I allowed myself to enjoy my surroundings a bit (but not straying far from Aoba), taking in the ground scenery that I didn’t quite get to catch on my morning flight, as well as things I had missed when first following Aoba home because of my high vigilance for all the trouble he was getting in.

A lot of the buildings around us were very busy. Colorful lights, flashing images and speakers announcing the next best thing that everyone HAD to buy! Allmates, clothing, accessories, electronics, basically anything possible to advertize was flickering around in such a way that it could almost be considered overwhelming, but it didn’t even seem to phase Koujaku or Aoba. It’s probably because they’ve been here for so long already.

The grocery store was almost no different. There were lots of advertisements going off around the customers, trying to convince them to purchase a certain brand or a certain item that surely they might need at some point. Honestly, I was very grateful that they didn’t seem to go off around me, which would have caused a bit of a problem if they could somehow pick up on a guardian angel’s presence (especially since I liked getting to peek around at things that Koujaku and Aoba hadn’t been looking at).

After an unsuccessful attempt by me to sneak what was called a “chocolate bar” into the things they were buying (which made me sad, I really wanted to try it…), they purchased their goods and returned to the street to begin their walk back to Aoba’s home.

Even though the load was evenly divided between them, I kind of wished I could help them carry the bags of food and ingredients they were burdened with. My siblings wouldn’t even consider that sort of thing in the slightest since it had nothing to do with our purpose, but…

Really, I’m not like them. I think it’s time for me to really accept that, at least as long as it doesn’t cause me to fail at protecting Aoba.

I was brought back out from my train of thought when a dark chill crept over my spine, making my breathing halt. My eyes snapped immediately over to Aoba, who appeared to be conversing with someone that looked rough enough to be in a gang, neither Rib or Rhyme.

I couldn’t hear the conversation over the beat of my heart. I couldn’t see anything other than the Grim that was slithering up behind this stranger, wrapping its tendrils around the man’s eyes to blind him to reason while another slid down his arm.

This was an act of violence. The man wanted everything they were carrying, including cash, coils, and ID, and as I saw Koujaku reach for his blade I knew he wasn’t going to be fast enough for what was about to happen.

Heartbeat.

“…I said no,” Aoba huffed almost tiredly, trying to step around the man.

I ran towards him.

Another heartbeat passes.

The man bellowed a cocky laugh and grabbed Aoba’s arm, the arm with a grim coiled around it drawing a gun.

“Aoba!” Koujaku bellowed as he began to draw his sword.

I reached out.

I could hear the squeeze of the trigger as I reached.

“Let me _go_ ,” Aoba hissed in a voice that made me feel like my chest exploded.

The man instantly obliged, but that wouldn’t stop him from shooting.

“ _MASTER--!_ ”

I grabbed the back of Aoba’s jacket, yanking harshly enough that he let out a surprised yelp followed by a harsh bang of a gunshot, right past him and hitting the wall behind where he stood. By the time we had both crashed to the ground, Koujaku slammed the gun out of the criminal’s hand with his blade, following up by pressing the point to his throat with a vicious growl.

The Grim dissipated with a hiss, and the man now fully recognizing the blade at his throat since its departure stumbled back and ran, cursing and spitting along the way.

Koujaku’s scowl remained, but he sheathed his sword. “Bastard…”

Aoba stood back up, cursing under his breath and dusted himself off. “Thanks for getting me out of the way, Koujaku. That almost ended badly,” he breathed, his voice slightly shaken.

Koujaku’s gaze turned on him, confused. “I would like to say you’re welcome, but I didn’t even touch you. What are you talking about?” he asked.

Aoba’s face froze over slowly. “That wasn’t you?”

Koujaku shook his head.

Aoba slowly looked over his shoulder, in my general direction but not focusing on my location since he could not see me.

“...Dumb luck, I guess,” Aoba muttered even slower.

Koujaku’s confused scowl softened a bit to a bitter grin. “Luck? Aoba, I swear if it wasn’t for bad luck, you would have none at all,” he sighed, shaking his head. “But I suppose we can believe in fairy tales and say you had a stroke of good luck for once. Now come on, we don’t need your granny asking questions and worrying her sick.”

“Yeah…” Aoba agreed half-heartedly, almost as though he barely heard what Koujaku said before turning around and following after him.

As they walked, I trembled in place, my heart beating in fear and awe.

I had called Aoba “Master”.

...Why.

_ Why? _


End file.
